


The Little Things

by Isilfic (Isilweth)



Category: Captain America, Marvel 616
Genre: Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Gen, World War II, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 01:39:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilweth/pseuds/Isilfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky after a battle in WWII.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zarabithia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/gifts).



Steve Rogers, or rather Captain America, couldn't always be as personable as he wanted to be. The Allies had taken heavy losses in the latest assault and he needed to assess them as quickly as possible before they had to move position again.

He was aware of the young soldier bleeding out on the field. They'd lost their medic and his morphine in the fight and there was nothing more they could do for the kid. Damn, the boy couldn't be any older than Bucky. Steve wanted to be there for him, but he had other duties, such as tending to the soldiers who would ultimately survive the barrage they'd sustained.

He had to leave the boy alone on the ravaged battlefield. His partner quickly offered to wait by the boy's side. He wasn't sure Bucky was up for it, as it required a certain amount of delicacy his partner often lacked, but he shouldn't have been surprised. James Barnes was made of stern stuff and projected an awful lot of bluster, but he'd been gifted with an extraordinary amount of empathy.

Bucky held the boy's hand. The boy couldn't speak anymore, and his eyes were fluttering. Steve doubted he could see. Bucky spoke low and softly. Steve imagined what he was saying. The Lord's Prayer perhaps, a hymn, or maybe he was telling him how he'd made a difference and his family would be proud. Steve hoped it was comforting, whatever it was.

Steve was organizing the move to another field and wasn't nearby when the boy died. He simply found Bucky suddenly beside him. If Steve expected an outward sign of what they'd been though, he'd have been disappointed. Bucky stood straight, hands on hips as he spat into the mud at their feet. His eyes were clear. "How we doin' here, Cap?"

"We're almost ready to move out. Just have to finish the graves detail." He hesitated only a moment, "What'd you say to that kid back there, Buck? I'm sure you being there helped him to the other side."

Bucky shook his head and smirked. "You really do believe that malarkey, don't you?" He snorted. "I just told him 'bout yesterday's poker haul and Namor's ridiculous obsession with Jackie. How her house smells like lavender and roses. It's a nice smell, yeah? Nothin' big."

Nothing big.

Steve considered for a moment that perhaps it was the little things that lent a life it's victories. But, he didn't often have time to be as philosophical as he wanted to be. It was time to gather his men and lead them to yet another battle.


End file.
